


Strawberry Pound Cake

by grimkinkwrites



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Cottagecore, F/M, Family, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Kravitz is a goth dork, M/M, Recipes, Slow Burn, Taako is a Mess, Tags May Change, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23723002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimkinkwrites/pseuds/grimkinkwrites
Summary: Deep, deep into the fantasy countryside sits a tiny town, nestled in the woods. It has a tight knit community of accepting and quiet folks, who spend their days in repetitive bliss.A perfect place for Taako, newly sisterless, to settle down.(A Cottagecore Taakitz fic, with bakers and coffin makers, that explores grief, intimacy, the permanency of love, and a life after death.)
Relationships: Barry Bluejeans & Taako, Barry Bluejeans/Lup, Kravitz & Taako (The Adventure Zone), Kravitz/Taako (The Adventure Zone), Lup & Taako (The Adventure Zone)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 55





	1. And She Leaves Too Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is my second fic!! And I will absolutely be completing it!! Chapter title is from Tea, Milk, and Honey by Oh Pep!

Three days after Lup’s funeral, Taako sat in a full, but empty, house 

Barry had come to help him pack up, of course. As much as he had probably wanted Taako to stay, he knew there was no point in keeping him in an echo chamber of grief. Taako would do what he always did when it got too hard, he would run. 

His voice cut through the static in Taako’s mind, as he unloaded boxes into a small cottage at the edge of a quiet town. “This’ll be good for you.” 

Taako absently nodded, watching as the dust settled with each new muted thump. He’d have felt bad, if Barry wasn’t trying hard to keep him in tact. They both knew it, there was no denying, Taako was a porcelain figure teetering on the ledge. The smallest push would shatter him. 

They both had the urge to stay together, undivided in Lup’s memory. 

There was no hope for that, Taako wouldn’t be able to stand walking past her grave on his way to work.

_He’d bought the cottage a day after her funeral, grief stricken and fragile. Barry sighed when he’d told him, sipping warm tea out of a mug. “You should never make big decisions when you’re sad.”_

_“What else would I have done with the money?”_

_There was a pause, as the venom in the elf’s voice settled. They weren’t angry at each other, and they weren’t angry at Lup. They were angry it had to be this way. “When are you moving?”_

_“Two days.”_

_“Let’s get packing.”_

“Taako?” Barry placed a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder, ignoring the way he flinched. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” His hand retreated to pull off his glasses, cleaning them on the cotton material of his shirt. “You’re all set, the hardest part now is gonna be unpacking.” 

Taako nodded wordlessly, hands fisting at the fabric of his skirt. “Will you stay a little longer?”

“Of course.” 

Taako sighs, walking forward into Barry’s open arms. He buries his face into his brother’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly as his curls spill down his back. The words are on the tip of his tongue, floating around in his mind. 

“You’re welcome.” Over their years of being best friends, Barry’s come to accept what Taako can’t say. The Taaco brand of affection has become his standard. The elf deflates, nodding against the fabric of the human’s shirt. 

Taako gets the gas stove up and running, and Barry walks down the road to pick up ingredients from the grocers. They eat in a comfortable silence, dinner without Lup has become dinner without conversation. 

Barry is long gone by the time Taako turns in for the night, departing with an unspoken ‘I love you’. 

There isn’t much Taako can do. He hasn’t slept well in weeks, nightmares sending him upright in bed choking on tears. It might have just been spending time in the house where Lup died, but he isn’t risking it. He chooses to light a kerosene lamp, beginning to pull clothes out of boxes and crates, and hanging them neatly in the wardrobe in his room.

He gets almost completely through his room, hunched over as he clears out another crate of knick knacks and miscellaneous items, when his hand pauses, fingers ghosting over a rough leather book cover.

 _Barry._

The fucker must’ve snuck it in when Taako wasn’t looking

The book appears to be an old diary, likely from their days on the road together. It’s beaten, and one corner is singed lightly. For whatever reason, that makes him feel a bit less melancholy. 

It feels invasive to read it, their rule of ‘no privacy between siblings’ doesn’t seem applicable now that there’s just the one. 

Taako stands, opening the top shelf to his dresser, and sticking it in. He slides the wooden drawer shut until the diary is out of view. 

A fit of nausea hits him as he makes his way back across the room, sitting on his bed and avoiding eye contact with no one in particular. 

It’s only been three days, he has time to process. 

He has time to heal.

Taako drifts off not too long later, squeezing a pillow in absence of a warm body.


	2. Call Me Back To You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two months!! God I'm so sorry!! Chapter title is from Ragged Wood by Fleet Foxes!!!

_“Come taste the sauce.”_

_“‘M not hungry.”_

_“You don’t have to be hungry to be my taste tester.” Taako turned around, dropping his spoon back into the pot. “What's your deal these days? You’re all fucking mopey. You get in a fight with Barold?”_

_“We can’t have kids, Taako. For all we did- it just won’t work.”_

_The elf huffed a breath, looking around the kitchen, searching for any semblance of a response. “It’s not worth crying over, Lulu. You can adopt. There are plenty of kids who’d love having two nerdy ass parents.”_

_“I know. You’re right it's just- Taako all the time we spent.”_

_“It wasn’t wasted.”_

_Lup fidgeted with her hands, eyes still pointed at the floor. Taako sighed, dropping down to be eye level with her. “You wanna try the sauce or not?”_

_“Yeah, I’ll try it.”_

_“Good, it’ll cheer you up.” Taako stood, walking the short distance to grab a spoonful and bring it back. He handed it to his sister, reaching up and pressing the back of his hand to her forehead._

_“Jesus- you’re burning up Lulu. Go lie down until dinner.”_

_“I’m fine- it’s just stress.”_

_“A nap still won’t hurt.”_

_Lup looked up at him, eyebrows knit together,  
an unreadable expression on her face as she hands the spoon back. “Yeah. I’m gonna turn in.”_

_“How long have you been sick?”_

_“Not long.”_

“Sir? You doing alright?”

Taako jumps at the sudden voice, whipping his head around to face the carpenter beside him. “Oh- yeah I’m fine. Just a little spacey this early in the morning.”

“Well, your sign is up.” The man hooks his screwdriver into his tool belt, resting his hands on his hips as he stands back. “You have great handwriting.”

“My sister designed it.”

“Oh! Is she coming to see it?”

Taako looks up, scanning the flowery lettering on the board. “Yeah. She’s busy these days.”

“Well you tell her I say hi when she does.”

“Of course. How much do I owe you, Magnus?”

“Don’t worry about it, just give me a friend discount in the shop.”

“Deal.” Taako smiles lightly, watching the man pack up his tools. “Take care. And spread the word, we open next week.”

“Of course, best form of advertising.”

“Word of mouth.” They say in unison, nodding.

“I’ll see you around.”

“You too.” Taako waves, turning back towards the street.

Making pleasant conversation is easy these days, keeping focus is the hard part.

He sees her face everywhere. She’s in shop windows and mirrors, walking alongside him on his daily trek to the bakery.

He catches glimpses of her in crowds momentarily, until her face fades away into the vague lineup of people.

He tallies it in his mind, a long list of people she’s never been.

A woman cradling a child. A shop keep, exchanging gold with a faceless customer. A circus performer in a caravan. She lived a hundred lives, even when she was six feet under.

_Grief is a long, painstaking process.  
Contrary to popular belief, it is not a linear cycle. Contrary to popular belief, when overcome, it has the tendency to return._

_Contrary to popular belief, it proceeds death._

_When they’d called the doctor in, she had already passed in her sleep. He’d said she went peacefully, and didn’t feel a thing. That there was nothing he could do ethically, and that they should contact the nearest funeral home._

_Taako had never seen someone break down like his brother had when they took her body away._

_He’d seen dead bodies before, they’d spent their lives running, hand in hand down unmarked roads, through trees and creeks, to the edges of cliffs and the depths of the city._

_Lup was holding his hand when they found their mother._

_She was laying in their bathtub, bright blue under red tinted water, still in the nightgown she wore when they’d slept next to her that morning._

_They couldn’t have been more than five in human years._

_Taako was mute for years, something about the image had shocked him into a lack of words. Lup still spoke to him, of course. She tried everything she could to coax out a word or two from her brother._

_They both nearly went insane trying to communicate._

_But eventually, one of their adults found a way._

_Tia Chilada said it was called sign language. It had a funny way of using grammar to the children, but they were young enough to pick it up quickly.  
She taught it to both the twins, and explained to Lup that they could speak with Taako now, rather than at Taako. She told Taako, separately, that she would never force him to speak. And when he wanted to speak, if he ever wanted to, she’d be happy to help him learn Elvish again._

_She raised them for decades._

_Taako finally felt safe enough to speak within the first two years._

_His first word, after a decade of silence, was ‘parsley’._

_So she taught him to cook, too._

_Their tia taught them Elvish, Spanish, and advanced Common._

_She taught them how to cook, bake, sew, do their hair, knit, clean wounds, and wear makeup. Admittedly, their mother had been neglectful, so she picked up where she could and taught them the basics of every subject before enrolling them in school. She was more of a mother than an aunt, and more of a friend than many other kids their age._

_When Lup had told her that she was a girl, tia spent all night sewing her a set of skirts for school. And when Taako had told her that he liked boys, she’d left a rainbow scarf on his dresser before breakfast the next morning._

_Elves ran laps around death, playing loose and fast with age._

_She was three hundred and forty nine when she died._

_The twins were a hundred and seven, thirteen in elf years._

_She left them with enough money to run away._

_Two hours after her funeral, the house was clear of nearly everything with memories behind it._

_Including the twins._

_They ran from authorities, they ran from their family, they ran from anybody who wanted to house one but not the other._

_They were never far from each other for long. The Taaco twins were a package deal._

_Until suddenly, they weren’t._

Taako comes to with a ball of very, very stiff sourdough bread in his hands. He sighs to nobody, slamming his fists into the dough and listening to the lifeless thump he gets in return. He pushes the bowl to the side, choosing to let the dough rise a bit longer before he shapes it.

He’s been piping icing, kneading dough, and moving things in and out of the oven since four in the morning. He’s had plenty of time to sulk by eight, when he flips his sign and announces ‘Sizzle It Up!’ as open.

_“You’d name your bakery ‘Sizzle It Up’?”_

_“Lulu, you’ve got to say it with enthusiasm. There’s an exclamation point at the end.”_

_“I can shout, if you want.”_

_“Please don’t.” Barry sighed, leaning his head on his hand. Lup grinned, leaning over to swipe his glasses off of his face and push them up the bridge of her nose. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with shouting last night, babe.”_

_“I can’t believe I live with you fuckers! I’m in hell! I hate it here!” Taako threw his hands up, leaning back in his chair with a groan._

_“You can always move, shithead.”_

_“Yeah, like you’d ever let me leave.”_

_“Can we please get back to bakery talk?” Barry snatched his glasses back, cheeks flushed and hot to the touch._

_“Babe, there are so many baking sex jokes-”_

_“Lup.” Barry warned._

_“Damn, cold.” Lup turned back to her brother, clapping her hands together. “Let’s shark tank this shit. Pitch the name to me.”_

_“What the fuck is shark tank?”_

_“Wouldn’t you like to know? Pitch the name.”_

_“Okay so- y’know, ‘Sizzle It Up!’. It’s got flair! It’s got personality! It’s very Taako.”_

_“He’s got a point.” Barry shrugged. “Very Taako.”_

_“Only problem- you’re not sizzling shit. It’s a bakery.”_

_“Fuck you, you can’t say shit about names, Chalupa.”_

_Both twins erupted into frantic Elvish insults, firing off at each other while Barry tried to mediate in his own broken phrases. It only took about five minutes until they’d dissolved into a fit of giggles._

_“So, we agree on ‘Sizzle It Up!’?” Taako snorted, when they’d finally composed themselves enough to hold a conversation._

_“I guess. But under one condition.” Lup grinned. “Because you can’t draw for shit-”_

_“I’m designing the sign.”_

_“Deal.”_

At a quarter past eight, the first customer walks in.

Taako doesn’t see him come in, but he hears the bell.

He must be in the back for only fifteen seconds, but when he walks through the doorway, the figure is already at the counter, ominously looming in a thick, velvet cloak.

He’s taller than Taako, by at least a foot, and he’s nearly motionless as Taako greets him, only offering a small wave. The elf can’t even see the majority of his face, blanketed with a shadow down to his mouth.

“Wearing the hood up inside is a little rude, isn’t it?” Taako hums. He’s dealt with imposing men before, he knows how to look an attacker in the face and scare them off just by daring to be bold.

“I suppose it is. You’ll have to forgive me.”

God- what the fuck is that accent?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of my fav fics of all time (Silk and Lace by The_Fanfic_Train here on AO3) was written by a sign language major and has grammatically correct sign language incorporated in it! It inspired me to put the idea in this fic. As much as I would've liked to write out different interactions, I am NOT a sign language major, and I'd hate to offend any community with my dumb ass! Just know that an attempt was DEFINITELY made in the writing process of this chapter!!!


	3. And Like The Dawn You Broke The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Like The Dawn by The Oh Hellos

Carefully, Taako plucks an egg from the carton, cracking it against the side of the large metal bowl in front of him. He stacks the shell halves together, placing them in the now empty hole with a practiced motion. 

He picks up a measuring cup, already filled with three cups of flour, which he pours in while mixing the batter with one hand. He follows it up with buttermilk, strawberry puree, and vanilla and strawberry extract. 

Baking alone is a lot quieter than he’d realized. 

The cake is out of the oven by the time he kneels in the front of the store, chalk in hand as he writes ‘Strawberry Pound Cake’ in flowery lettering. He cleans the lettering with a damp cloth, stepping back to admire his handiwork. 

Today’s special item, it marks two weeks after the opening of his shop.

He leans back down, scribbling a few strawberries in the corner of the chalkboard. They’re passable at best. 

Drawing was more Lup’s thing, anyways. 

Taako opens the door to his shop, holding it with his foot as he positions the chalkboard out front. He slips back in when it’s positioned perfectly, having just enough time to flip the open sign when the door jingles with the first customer of the day. 

He will never admit it, but he secretly calls the man The Grim Reaper, at least in his letters to Barry. It’s not like he can be blamed- the man looks pretty intimidating. He’s at least six feet, draped in a black cloak that shimmers like early morning dew.

The man’s been coming in consistently for the past two weeks, but they’ve barely exchanged a word. He couldn’t name the guy if you held a knife to his throat, and he’s never really seen his face outside of the shadow of his hood. 

It feels a bit too early for small talk, he knows that logically, but two weeks is a long time to not know someone’s name. 

“Are you ever gonna take off that hood?” Taako hums at the counter, using tongs to serve the man two slices of his pound cake. ”And y’know what, while you’re at it, I didn’t catch your name.” 

The man doesn’t respond, pulling out a small money pouch, so Taako keeps talking. “What? You don’t want anyone to know your dirty secret? Nobody can know about your horrible addiction to baked goods?” 

“Do you always talk this much?” 

“Do you always talk this little?” 

“Well- yes.” 

“Then there’s your answer.” Taako doesn’t let the quip settle before he starts again. “So is it the secret thing? Because news flash- I don’t exactly have many people out here to tell. I moved in like- a month ago.”

“Can I just have my food?” 

The other sighs, long and exaggerated, before handing over the packaged cake. The man drops three silver into his hand in return, and Taako leans down to place it in a lockbox behind the counter. 

When he comes back up, the Grim Reaper’s hood is down, and he looks mildly annoyed. 

He’s- actually kinda hot- 

He’s a human, with patches of vitiligo covering seventy percent of what’s visible of him. He has long braids that slip over his shoulders, a handful pulled back into a half-updo. 

“Kravitz.” He mumbles, rolling his eyes. “My name is Kravitz.” 

“Taako.” 

“Your- Your name is on the sign.” 

Taako blinks dumbly, and then shoots up fully. “Right. You have a good day, Krav.”

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Don’t you have an accounting job to get to or something?” 

“Yeah- something like that.” Kravitz scans the elf’s face before sighing, pulling his hood back up, and walking out the door. 

Taako waits until he can see he’s disappeared, and then he ducks under the counter again, snatching up a piece of parchment and a pencil. 

_“Holy shit- he’s so hot.”_

_“Yeah, I’m sure he is Lulu.”_

_“And he’s super smart- Ugh- oh my god-“_

_“You good?”_

_Lup tilted her head up from where she was laying on the floor. “Do I look good?”_

_“Nope. But you never do.”_

_Taako dodged the shoe she flung at him. “Damn! Watch it!”_

_“I’m serious! He’s unreasonably hot! Have you seen him! I can’t believe it- and he’s so intelligent- he’s a little awkward but it’s so cute! God!”_

_Taako sat up on their shared bed, ears shooting straight up and one eyebrow raising. “Do you hear that?”_

_“What?” Lup propped herself up on her elbows, sharing his confused face._

_“It’s a wake up call. You met this guy yesterday.”_

_Taako did not dodge the second shoe._

_“Ow! Fuck! You’re gonna give me a concussion!”_

_“Be nice! Come on! You haven’t even met him yet!”_

_“And I guarantee I’m not gonna like him. Just like your last boyfriend, and the one before that-“_

_“Nope. Nope! You don’t get to judge me this time. You’re gonna love him. I’ve decided.”_

_“Yeah- sure, Lulu.”_

When Taako cracks his mailbox open a week later, there’s a letter waiting for him. He can tell exactly who it’s from, just based off of the awful excuse for handwriting on the front of the envelope. 

He shakes the letter open with one hand, a basket of groceries hanging off his arm as he opens his front door. It’s from Barry- well, of course it is. If the handwriting wasn’t a dead giveaway, the fact he doesn’t keep in contact with many others is. 

_Taako,_

_Glad you’re enjoying yourself so far, gotta say, miss your cooking around here. Works been going well, as well as it can I suppose. But progress is progress, right?_

_I know you, and before you trash this envelope-_

Taako looks down at the envelope he’s already discarded on the hall floor. He rolls his eyes, reaching down to pick it up and carrying it into the kitchen with him. 

_I know you, and before you trash this envelope, there’s a small present inside. I was picking up the house the other day, and I found it in the corner of your old room. I’m sure you must’ve missed it._

Taako pauses, placing the letter down on his kitchen counter. He picks the envelope up, shaking it until he hears a small clink on the stone surface. 

It’s a ring, silver wire intertwined with dried lavender. He picks it up and slips it onto his middle finger- it still fits like a glove. 

_I couldn’t find Lup’s matching one, I’m sure it’s somewhere in your boxes. And I’m glad you got to know that weird hot guy, he seems polite enough from what you’ve told me. Keep me updated if you learn more about him. Maybe you should invite him over for dinner. Wouldn’t kill you to try and make friends._

_I know you’re avoiding people. Don’t deny it, I know you, T._

_If you need anything, you can write, or you can just come home. Your room’s still vacant for whenever you need it. Have a great rest of your week, and write back soon. I love you._

_Your brother,_   
_Barry Bluejeans_

As soon as Taako’s done reading, he feels it, a strong tug in his gut. Before he knows it, he’s walking back through the hall and towards his room, stopping in the doorway. 

He makes his way to the top shelf of his dresser, and slides it open. 

The diary stares back at him, cracked spine, singed corner, and all. He picks it up before he can talk himself out of it, and after a moment, he cracks it open to the first page. 

A leather pocket on the inside grabs his attention, and he reaches in, pulling out a matching ring to the one that’s on his finger. He hesitates for a moment, before slipping it on and looking back towards the pages. 

She would be about sixteen, in this entry. 

She’s descriptive, that’s for sure, and her personality drips out of every word. It’s not even an interesting story, she’s just writing about their first day in a new caravan. He vaguely remembers what she’s talking about, but he definitely remembers when she’d written it. At the time, he’d gotten pissy about her keeping him up while she wrote, but they both knew it was wiser to lose sleep than to let either of them sleep alone with a group of strangers. 

The memories and emotions come in flashes, and it sparks a heavy weight in his chest to realize how she’d loved things like this. She had been alive to write this and she’d been alive to experience it. 

But now she’s gone, never to revisit their younger days through these pages, make fun of their naivety with him. 

One twin remains, so he remembers without her.

When he’s finished the three page entry and closed the book, he can trick himself into feeling less alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for my absence, life has been crazy, but because of recent unfortunate circumstances, I have a lot more inspo for this fic.


	4. I'll Give You My Best Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from Soap by The Oh Hellos (Listen to their new EP it's godly)

It’s easy to be friends with Taako, unfortunately.

He’s proven himself to be very patient, especially with the more cagey parts of Kravitz. It’s strange honestly, just how quickly he’s managed to knock down his walls, while keeping ever elusive. They’ve built up a nice friendship in the month and a half knowing each other. 

Taako’s become more aware of his schedule in the past few weeks, which is very thoughtful on his part. But this, of course, is the primary reason behind the earful Kravitz gets after his three day absence. 

“ _Kravitz McAllister._ ” 

“Why did I tell you my last name?” Kravitz walks across the shop to the counter, sighing despite the smile on his face.

“Where have you been? You’re like- half of my strawberry pound cake sales, m’man!” 

“Wow, typical, using me just for my money.”

“Don’t forget those good looks.” Taako quips. 

“...I forget it’s up, okay?” The man sighs as he lowers his hood, pulling out his money pouch. “I don’t think it’s much of your concern.” 

“Definitely is. I mean- come on, I have like- two and a half friends, and you’re one of them.” Taako crosses his arms. “Tell me why you were gone, or I’m gonna start guessing, and that won’t be fun for either of us.” 

“Believe me, I know.” Kravitz looks up at the ceiling, and lets out a long, drawn out sigh. “I had to travel for work. What did you think I was doing?”

“I don’t know. Something illegal, probably.” Kravitz rolls his eyes at that. “What kinda business trip takes three days?”

“I’m a mortician.” 

“What, I thought you were just like- a banker or something?”

“What gave you that impression?” 

“You’ve got that serious vibe, y’know?”

“I mean- mortician fits too then?” Kravitz laughs, watching Taako cut a slice of cake for him. The baker huffs. “Whatever- you still need to make up for lost time, I need to know all those juicy juicy funeral stories. So-” Taako hands the small paper bag to Kravitz. “You should come to the market with me this afternoon.” 

Kravitz pauses, scanning the man behind the counter. There’s a safe barrier between them. Kravitz doesn’t have to worry about Taako getting too close, not when he’s just a customer. They’ve already crossed that line of regular to friend, but any closer than that is uncharted territory for the mortician. He’s perfectly fine where they are, keep an arm's length away, physically and emotionally. 

But- he’s also pretty fond of Taako, is the thing. He may be a bit obnoxious, but he’s respectful, and he’s nice when he wants to be. He’s a good enough friend. 

What’s the harm in getting a little closer? Why is he freaking out so much? 

“Oh boy- I do not like how long this is taking.” Taako cuts into his panic with a snort, and Kravitz forgets why he’s even freaking out when the other smiles. 

“Ugh- why not? I’m off today anyway.” 

“Wait, you got up before sunrise for fun, then?”

“...Well.” 

Taako pauses, and then his face lights up. “Awe- did you come to see me? You miss me, Krav?” 

“Funnily enough, I don’t remember why.” 

“Whatever, you know you did. Be here around five, we can walk together.”

“Can’t wait!” Kravitz’s tone is dripping with sarcasm as he walks out, but honestly, he really can’t. 

\---

The market’s bustling by this time of day, Taako seems pleased as they weave through the crowds. This is the first time he’s seen the other without his apron on, Kravitz realizes, he’s sporting a cloak instead, and wearing a large sunhat, despite the chilly weather. It flops down when he turns too fast, Kravitz laughs the first time it happens (but maybe it’s just to cover up how he thinks it's darling on him). 

“So, does your family live here too?”

“Prodding into my private life again, I see.”

“Well I never see you around town, or with anyone for that matter. Humor me.” 

“I live out here alone.” Kravitz pauses momentarily when Taako stops at the closest stall, continuing as he wanders off again. “I travel a lot for work. And I’m an only child, so-” 

“Hence the absence, of course. Then, do your parents at least live anywhere near?” 

“They’re buried near.” 

“Oh- Kravitz- shit-” Taako pauses in his stride, looking back over his shoulder at the taller man. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“Taako, I’m a mortician. Death surrounds me. I lost them when I was a child, I’ve come to peace with it.”

The baker doesn’t pick back up walking when Kravitz has caught up to him, instead, he meets his eyes, frozen in the middle of the busy market. He’s white-knuckling the basket, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re just- over it, then?”

The other raises a brow, reaching down. “Hand me the basket.” 

“Answer the question.” 

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” 

Reluctantly, he hands Kravitz the basket, who takes it in his right hand, offering his left to his companion. “I’m not over it. I’ve made peace with the situation. You don’t just get over a death.”

Kravitz only starts moving again when Taako’s interlaced their fingers. “My job is just as much to guide people through grieving as it is taking care of the dead bodies. Nobody ‘gets over it’,” He makes air quotes with his hand holding the basket. 

“Most people take years to reach acceptance, and it’s certainly not a straight shot. Death brings out a lot of complicated emotions, and as a result, no one knows how to talk about it.” Kravitz allows himself to be steered towards another stall, continuing to talk while Taako browses. “I’ve met plenty of people who just grieve to grieve, and I understand that, I was like that the first year after my parents passed.”

“But- if I’m being honest, I think at some point, everyone realizes that you have to stop watching their grave. They won’t come back, so you have to do what they couldn’t, you have to live.” 

Kravitz doesn’t realize he’s stopped looking at Taako until he turns back to him. He feels bad as soon as he sees the look on his face, it’s some sort of mixture of relief, sadness, maybe anger if the wrinkle of his brow is anything to go off of. He can see Taako wants to say something, but he just stares through him with a scrunched face. He knows that look, Taako’s in a different place right now. 

The mortician squeezes his friend’s hand, lowering his voice a little as he leans down. “Did you need cherries?”

And like a switch is flicked, Taako’s pulled back to reality. 

“What- oh- yeah um-” When he turns back to the worker, Kravitz continues to watch him, tuning out their conversation. 

He traces the lines of Taako’s face, watching his expression, his ears are still low despite the change in topic. Kravitz knows that in some way, he’s overstepped. Taako’s not willing to talk about it yet. That’s alright, but he wants to help if he can.

The weight of the other’s hand in his own is nice, even if the height difference makes it a little awkward. They leave the stall in a matter of minutes, but it feels like an eternity to Kravitz. He doesn’t know if that’s better or worse. 

(Taako shoves one of the cherries into Kravitz’s mouth later, he can’t help but laugh as he tries not to swallow the pit.) 

When Taako offers for him to come over for dinner, the fondness in his voice makes it impossible to say no. 

Something lingers beneath the surface as they walk the stone path to the outskirts of town. 

Taako doesn’t mind the chill of his hands, he doesn’t mind when Kravitz explains the process of preparing a body, though he does comment on just how many boner jokes he’s holding in. He doesn’t seem to care when Kravitz laughs while eating, or wheezes fully at something he’s said. He even seems endeared when he tells him about his weirdest funeral appointment to date. 

And if Kravitz holds him a little longer than necessary when he leaves, that’s nobody’s business. 

Because Taako doesn’t seem to mind that either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our first Kravitz chapter! I can't wait to explore him a bit more. Two chapters in under a week, crazy right? 
> 
> (Btw I wanted to call this chapter "Kravitz and Taako trauma bond" but sadly that didn't fit the naming convention I got going on)


	5. Long Past Sadness That Was In Our Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! TW: This chapter deals with allusions to transphobia, and the ending scene is very grief heavy, heavier than we've really seen so far. I hope you all had a Happy New Years!
> 
> Title from Glow Worms by Vashti Bunyan!

Kravitz has never been one for distractions. It wasn’t how he was raised. 

When they were alive, his parents prided themselves on a child who’d never truly existed. They’d lived under the impression they had raised a goal-oriented, well-worded, and traditional daughter. A girl who preferred to be seen and not heard, was versed in classic literature, and never spoke out of turn. The perfect daughter and the perfect heir.

That girl had died long before they had.

He’d never had the chance to tell them, he hadn’t even begun to work up the nerve by the time they had left him behind. For a while, he’d fantasized about what could’ve been. Every time he’d failed to get the words out, he’d expected there would be more chances. Until suddenly, there weren’t. 

Kravitz hadn’t gotten that closure. And even now, years later, he wonders what might’ve happened, he wonders if they’re watching him now, and if they’re disappointed. 

It was difficult to think about, so he chose not to. 

As his mother put it, life’s not long enough to get caught up on every little thing. So even if they went unchecked, he’d file the smaller things away, and maybe someday he’d have the time to unpack them. 

But we’re off topic now. 

Kravitz has never been one for distractions, but Taako’s a welcome one. 

He finds himself easing up around Taako after their date the week before, he suspects the other is too, as he seems to have let his guard down just a little. He might’ve chipped away at his armor, because for all of his charm, Taako’s become a bit easier to read. 

Or maybe he’s just exaggerating the way his ears droop when Kravitz tells him. 

“I’m going out on another business trip, leaving as soon as we’re done. Double service a few towns away, so I’ll be gone for about three days. I’ll see you next week.” 

“Seriously? You just got back! Why don’t more people just kick the bucket locally!” 

Kravitz hides a chuckle behind his hand, shrugging. “Winter brings death, I’ll be out on a lot of trips for the next few months.” 

Taako’s nose scrunches up at that, and his brows furrow. It’s the same face he’d made in the market. Kravitz pauses, reviewing what he’d said. 

The baker has been hard to pin since that afternoon, he can tell there’s some baggage related to death, but he’s never been able to coax anything out of him. So, this is just another piece to add to the puzzle. He doesn’t want to pick him apart, lord knows no one likes people creepily figuring out their backstories, but Taako hasn’t given him much to work with. He’s resorted to being observant where he can.

And still, there are very few things he knows about Taako. 

But he knows there is, maybe was, a ‘Lup’. 

_“I’m just gonna change out of my work clothes, I don’t want to smell like the bakery the entire rest of the night.” Taako hummed, pulling off his sunhat and hanging it up with his cloak. “You can hang in the kitchen if you’d like, or you can look around. Just don’t steal my shit.”_

_“You’ve foiled my master plan.”_

_Taako smiled, making his way to an unseen bedroom. “I’ll notice! I have like- photographic memory, Krav!”_

_Kravitz watched him turn around the corner, his laugh echoing in the now empty hall. He turned to the kitchen, easy to find as it was right beside the door, and walked towards the counter._

_And laying there in plain sight, was a journal._

_It had seen better days, definitely. It was either well loved or properly hated, judging by the singed corner and the horrifically cracked spine. It wasn’t right to snoop, this wasn’t his business and this wasn’t his house._

_Yet still, he opened up the cover, if only to see who’d forsaken the poor thing._

_On the very first page, opposite to a leather pocket, was a phrase in Elvish._

_‘Property of Lup Taaco’_

_And then, in the corner, much smaller._

_‘Taako, I swear to Istus, snoop and I’ll kill you.’_

_He looked up when he heard the bedroom door open again, shutting the journal immediately and dashing to the other side of the counter as Taako’s voice floated in._

_“Sorry about that, let’s start on dinner.” The baker stretched his arms above his head as he walked in, smiling._

_‘Lup’ echoed in Kravitz’s mind as he smiled back, nodding. “I’m not sure if I’ll be much help.”_

“Here.” Taako slips an envelope into Kravitz’s hand as he pushes the bag of baked goods across the counter. “Nah- nope. Put your wallet away, Krav. Consider it a going away present. But you better get something from a bakery over there and tell me how shitty it was when you come home.” 

“And the envelope?” 

“Well, I would’ve mailed it, but I don’t know where you live.” Taako shrugs, smiling. “You should invite me over once you’re back. We can like- drink tea or whatever you like to do.” 

“I don’t know. My garden is kind of a glorified graveyard-“

“Sexy.” 

“I’m not sure you’d like it.” Kravitz blinks. “Excuse me- sexy?”

“Yes. Keep up. I’m not here to judge, dude. Just let me over. It’s not like I’m gonna murder you. I would’ve done it at my place, anyways.” Taako leans forwards against the counter, chin resting on an open palm. He almost looks like he’s sizing Kravitz up. Maybe he’s just teasing him.

The mortician is still caught up on ‘sexy’ by the time he realizes he has to form a response. 

“...Good to know.” Kravitz sighs. “I’ll think about it. I’ve gotta go, though.”

“See you soon, don’t miss me too much.” 

“Believe me, I won’t.” 

He definitely will. 

——

When Kravitz knocks on the door of the McDonald house, a little boy answers. 

“May I speak to your parents?” 

“Oh- um- they’re not available, sir.” 

“Who may I speak to then?” 

“I’ll get my grandfather.” The door shuts, and Kravitz can hear the tapping of footsteps fade behind it. And when it opens again, an older man gives Kravitz a warm smile, and the boy is gone. 

“Your grandson seems very sweet.” 

“Oh, Angus? Yes. I was surprised to see he opened the door. He hasn’t left his room much lately.” 

“Was he closed to the deceased?” 

“They were his parents.” 

“Oh-” Kravitz blinks dumbly as he steps inside, and he turns his attention towards the stairs. Angus stands at the top, watching Kravitz with a strange expression. When Kravitz waves, he scampers off down the hall. 

“My apologies.” 

The service is lovely and heartbreaking, a dime a dozen in Kravitz’s line of work. He sits in the back, as he usually does, and watches a priest drone on in front of two caskets, framed drawings of the happy couple propped up beside him. It’s sickeningly familiar, and he tries not to show his discomfort as the family sings familiar hymns in grief stricken voices. 

After the service, Angus stands in front of the two caskets, arms folded on the wood lid and head down. The rest of the family passes by silently, they’re giving him time to grieve, Kravitz supposes. It feels all too familiar. 

Ten minutes pass and still, no one dares approach the poor boy. It’s a pathetic display, that in an entire room of adults, the greatest affected is receiving no comfort. 

Kravitz doesn’t realize he’s gotten up until he’s already beside Angus, a hand resting on his shoulder. The boy doesn’t look up, eyes still fixed on the blank faces of the bodies before him. “Do you need to get some air?” 

“Yes, sir. I think I do.” 

Part of Kravitz’s job is helping families through the grieving process, and whatever that might pertain. 

(It’s easier to separate himself from this child under the guise of ‘I’m here to help’, because he hates the alternative.)

Kravitz takes Angus by the hand and leads him out the back door into the garden, and when he lets go, Angus drops to a sitting position on the porch. It’s silent. Kravitz knows by now that he, a stranger, can’t truly console Angus in a way that matters. But every little bit helps, doesn’t it? 

Kravitz sits as well, and when he realizes he still looks rather imposing, he shrinks down a bit. 

“My parents died when I was around your age.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I think I understand a bit better than they do.” Kravitz gestures back towards the door, and Angus shrugs, bringing his knees up to his chest. 

“This fucking sucks.” 

“I know.” 

“And it’s not fair.”

“I know.” 

“I just saw them a week ago and now-“ The boy’s face scrunches up, and tears start to well in the corners of his eyes. “No one-“ He gasps for air, holding back a sob. “No one wants to help.” 

“I think they do. They just don’t know how to.” Kravitz feels...well, he’s not sure how he feels. He places his hand on Angus’ shoulder. And it feels professional. He wants to breach that gap, he wants to truly say something that will help Angus through all of this. But what can he do? He’s being paid to be here. Nothing he says- nothing will ever hold fond memories with this boy. His whole world is crashing down around him, and all Kravitz can do is put his hand on his shoulder. 

Angus sobs into his knees, hugging himself tightly. And Kravitz can’t bring himself to pull him into an embrace. 

He repeats “it’s not fair” like a mantra, and his entire body shakes with the force of his grief. 

And it’s as if he’s alone out here, because Kravitz stays quiet, ghostly and cold. 

When Angus has calmed down enough, Kravitz pulls out a handkerchief, handing it to him. Quietly, the boy wipes at his eyes and nose, leaning back just enough so he isn’t curled into a ball. 

“What did you do when they died?” 

“I-I don’t think you’d want to know.” 

“What am _I_ supposed to do?” Angus is still shaking, and he searches Kravitz’s face for any sort of answer. But Kravitz is focused on his expression, snotty-nosed and broken. 

It’s like looking into a mirror. 

It makes him sick. 

“I don’t know.” 

_You have to move on._

_Don’t let this break you._

_Reach out to others._

_Keep what you have left of them close._

_Don’t do this alone._

_You won’t make it if you don’t ask for help._

_Just keep going._

_You are not alone._

_Please- please- please-_

_Say something._

“...I just don’t know.” 

That next Monday, the bell above Sizzle It Up’s door jingles, and the cycle begins anew. 

Taako is waiting for him at the counter with his order, smiling ear from ear. He looks happy to see him. 

Kravitz can’t say the same. 

“How was your trip?” 

Kravitz pauses. 

“It was fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope none of y'all thought Kravitz wouldn't also have some baggage. Next chapter will be Taako's POV, just thought it would be nice to have a bit of a break in routine!


End file.
